Fever Dreams
by MaxRideObsessed
Summary: There are some very weird things going on...Things involving test-drive dummies and skinny dipping and breast cancer. Has the world gone crazy or is Max just delirious? T for minor sexual references. And, of course, FAXNESS. Read and review.


Author's Note: Complete partial credit goes to ILUVZUZU, who wrote just as much of this as I did. Enjoy the randomness.

_Fever dreams _

_Can only haunt you_

'_Til the fever breaks_

_-_Fever Dreams, The shade of Poison Trees, Dashboard Confessional

---

"Hey, Max," I heard from the corner of my bedroom.

_Holy crap. I know that sickeningly sweet voice. _I looked up and my eyes met those of the Red-Haired Wonder. "What do you want?" I said, standing. She looked hurt.

"My name is Lissa," she explained. "I don't know if you knew… anyway… I don't want anything."

_How had she gotten in here? _"Then why are you here?" I said harshly. I was tense, the memory of her and Fang in the classroom replaying in the back of my mind.

"Okay. I _do _want one thing."

"Figured," I muttered. "F-Nick's in the other room."

Lissa laughed. "What I want isn't him."

"Well, then, what is it?"

"I want you, Max. The very first time I saw you, I knew I was in love with you. I kissed your brother to get closer to you. Turns out, you were in love with him. I thought to myself, Well, if she can have an incest relationship, why couldn't she have a lesbian relationship? So, I came here. Just so you know."

I gaped at her. This girl definitely needed to be checked into a psyche-ward. I looked at the door and almost called Fang into the room, but when I turned back to where Lissa had stood, she was gone. I was seriously starting to get creeped out by this. Had she jumped out the window? And I hadn't even gotten to tell her that I most definitely was not going to EVER like her like that. Ah, well.

Still thoroughly disbelieving of the whole scenario, I ran down the hallway to Fang's room. This was weird, even for my life.

---

Angel was bored and couldn't find her brother anywhere. She found a game called "Trouble" in the living room and went to his room to find him. He would play with her, at least. And if he didn't want to, Angel thought she could make him. Hopefully Max wouldn't find out.

She reached the door to his bedroom. He and Iggy used to share a room, but as they got older – Gazzy was now 13 – he begged Max to let him use the spare bedroom.

She heard weird noises coming from the room. Was Gazzy grunting?

She pushed open the door. "Oh my God, Gazzy. Are you _wanking_?"

What she saw then scarred her for life.

Gazzy jumped off the bed, followed by Total. "It's…It's not what it looks like!" Gazzy begged Angel.

"So you and Total weren't just HAVING SEX ON YOUR BED!?"

"Shh, Angel! Keep it down! Someone will hear you!" Gazzy shushed her.

"OH! MY! GOD!" Angel screamed, not listening to him whatsoever. "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, EW!"

"What's it going to take to keep you quiet about this?" asked Total. His fur looked ruffled.

She held up her box. "We could, uh, you know…play _trouble."_

Then, after stripping Gazzy's sheets, they sat on the bed and played the board game the rest of the night.

---

Iggy, meanwhile, was flying to Japan to find the Honda Factory. Sure, he could always fly, but he really wanted a _car. _He figured it must be illegal for blind guys to drive, but he'd be better than Max or Fang, anyways. It was probably a guy thing.

At this factory, Iggy heard many loud, Japanese voices shouting things in loud Japanese. Iggy was grateful for his ADD urge to learn Japanese the previous year. One man screamed, "You idiots! Can't _someone _find a place to throw the test-drive dummy out?" in Japanese.

Iggy smirked and turned to where the man's voice was coming from. "I'll take it," he said in his incredibly sexy Japanese.

Iggy heard the man's footsteps click-clack closer to him on the cement floor. "You will take it?" The man said in broken English.

Iggy nodded.

The man's footsteps faded and Iggy soon heard him walking back, dragging a seemingly heavy object across the cold concrete. "You take this, and you go?" The man asked.

Iggy took the plastic figure in his arms and said, "Sure."

Flying back to the US with the dummy in his arms, Iggy thought that while he didn't get his car, he had gotten something better; something to practice on.

---

Valencia jerked awake to Magnolia's barking. Sliding her robe and slippers on, she made her way downstairs. "What on earth are you barking at, you crazy dog?" she smiled, patting the Basset-Hound on the head. Magnolia's barking continued.

Valencia opened the door to let her out. Standing there, on her front stoop was—"Jeb!"

"Hi, Val," Jeb smiled nervously. "May I come in?"

Valencia nodded and backed away to let him pass. "What happened?" she asked as she closed the door. "Is Max hurt?"

Jeb shook his head. "It's nothing like that."

"Then what?"

"I just have an odd, inexplicable urge to go skinny-dipping."

"Uh…"

"You have a hot tub, right?" he asked.

"Well, as a matter of fact, we just got it working yesterday!" she exclaimed. "Come on out!"

Once in the backyard, Dr. Martinez tried to look as sexy as she could while stripping off all her clothes. Then, once they were shivering in the cold air form lack-of-clothes, they jumped in the hot tub, laughing.

---

Iggy had just entered the dark house with his test-drive dummy in his arms when he was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Oh, so I see how it is," Tess's voice said.

"Tess!" Iggy exclaimed, blushing after noticing the enthusiasm in his voice.

Tess slapped him. "How could you!? I trusted you, and you're out with this whore?"

"Tess, I thought you knew we were over. Actually, we weren't ever anything. I'm sorry, but I'm with Marsha now." He gestured to the dummy.

"_Marsha?"_ Tess cried. "_MARSHA?_ I TURN MY BACK ON YOU FOR FIVE YEARS AND YOU START A THING WITH _MARSHA?"_ Tess almost slapped him again, but this time Iggy was ready. He jumped back, swinging Marsha's legs around to hit Tess.

"I'm sorry, Marshy," he said. "That must have hurt."

"ARRRAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" Tess shouted. "She is freaking _plastic, _Jeff! You can't _do anything _with a test-drive dummy!"

"Her name," Iggy said patiently, "is Marsha. And I can do whatever I want with her." He proceeded to press his lips to Marsha's. He forced her plastic arms around his neck and continued to make out with her.

Tess began to bawl in the corner of the room. Then, with a crash, a body came flying through the window. Shards of glass flew in every direction, cutting into Iggy's bare arms holding Marsha.

"Step away from Marsha!" a vaguely familiar voice shouted valiantly.

Iggy and Marsha broke apart. "Aren't you that loser Max dated?"

Sam cracked his knuckles in reply and sent a punch to Iggy's chin. "Marsha is mine!" he cried.

Iggy, of course, beat Sam's sad little human ass. Tess, meanwhile, called 911 in fear that both the boys and the dummy would perish.

---

I stormed into Fang's room. We needed to have a talk about this girlfriend of his.

"Max?" Fang asked.

"What?" I snapped somewhat irritably.

"I think I need to go see a doctor," he told me quietly.

"What? Why?"

"I think I have breast cancer."

"Don't be ridiculous, Fang. You don't even have _breasts. You're a GUY."_

"Guys CAN get breast cancer. Approximately 1,700 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer and 450 will die each year."

"You've been doing research?" I asked.

"Yes, well, I looked up symptoms. I think you're going to have to trust me, here. Do you really want to feel my chest?"

"No thanks. So are you sure?"

"About the cancer?" he asked. "Pretty sure. Like I said. I think we should go to the hospital."

"Okay, well, Tess is downstairs. I think there's an ambulance in the driveway. Something about Iggy and Sam beating the crap out of each other."

"Yeah," Fang's voice sounded weird. "Who's Marsha, anyways?"

"I have absolutely no idea whatsoever," I told him.

---

"So yeah. And then I was all 'that's pretty, like stars' and then she was like 'are the stars pretty?' and then I was all 'oooh, smelly marker' and then we held hands and skipped and then I went on the computer and stuff and then I was typing and typing and typing and typing over and over and over again and I couldn't stop and it was really weird, you know? Because most of the time I think I have super-duper self-control and stuff. But like, I couldn't stop typing! I love Avril Lavigne, and Lindsay Lohan! You know I've always wanted to meet Lindsay Lohan. She's all scary druggy now. Is she still in rehab, anyways? Well, I love Disney channel. Is it weird that I'm seventeen and I love Disney Channel? Zac Efron is like sooooooo yummy-licious!"

Everyone in Gazzy's room stared blankly at Nudge.

"Nudge," Total said slowly, "are you on crack?"

Nudge jumped, horrified that her secret had finally been discovered. "N…n…no!"

After that, Angel "convinced" Nudge to go to rehab. Nudge didn't really mind, anyways. She met Lindsay Lohan there.

It was the best day of her life.

---

Ari and Ella peeped through the windows at her mom and Jeb. They seemed to be enjoying themselves in the new hot tub.

Ella suddenly had an idea. "Hey Aaaari?" she asked. "Do you want to come in the hot tub with my mom and your dad?"

Ari still looked depressed. "Are they going to play sixties love songs?"

Ella looked appalled. "Of _course _not! Do you think I would allow that, ever? Silly Billy. Now let's go skinny dipping!"

Ari shrugged. "Okay, if you want." Not that he exactly _minded _going in a hot tub naked with Ella.

They stripped their clothes and ran outside to join the lovey-dovey couple.

---

I sat nervously in the waiting area of the hospital. Fang had been so much longer than I expected. What if he wasn't _actually _clinically insane? What if he _did _actually have breast cancer?

The thought was supposed to be funny, I supposed. I mean, he was a _guy, _after all. And such a manly one too. But it was life threatening, and that meant losing Fang.

Then he walked out, his face impassive as usual.

I ran up to him, hoping for the best. "Well?"

"Well what?"

I rolled my eyes. "So is it true? Do you have breast cancer?"

He nodded and pulled me to his chest. I cried for a minute before cracking up. He laughed with me.

"Just wait till we tell the kids," I said. "Oh my god, this is so hilarious."

We laughed all the way out of the hospital, with Fang's doctor yelling behind us to come back.

---

"My name is Nudge, and I'm a crack addict."

"Hi, Nudge," the room chorused.

---

Fang and I joined the group in the hot tub. The whole flock plus Ari, Jeb, and Dr. Martinez were waiting for us. Oddly enough, I think Fang and I were the only ones wearing swimming suits.

I stared at Fang's head and started crying all over again. Since his chemo therapy, he had lost his hair. And I mean ALL of it. No more emo bangs for him, anymore.

The tub was pretty crowded, but everyone seemed busy. Jeb and Mom were doing God-knows-what, and Iggy was making out with a mannequin thing. Angel, Gazzy, and Total seemed to be playing some sort of invisible board game. Ella and Ari were looking very out of place and staring at Mom and Jeb in disgust. I agreed. Like, ew. Nudge was nowhere to be seen.

"Hi Max!" Iggy exclaimed. "Have you met Marsha?"

I looked around for another person, and then realized he was talking about his dummy. It looked like one of those things they used to test cars.

"So _that's _Marsha," Fang said.

"Yeah, we were wondering," I informed Iggy. "Nice name, though. Great choice."

"I didn't choose it!" Iggy defended. "Her _parents _did, duh."

Everyone stared blankly at him but returned to whatever they were doing after a few seconds.

Then I realized that Fang was no longer next to me. "Fang?" I cried.

Suddenly I was sitting next to a hospital bed, in my wet bathing suit, holding Fang's limp hand. "Fang? _Fang!" _

"Wake up, idiot!" I shouted. "Fang, I need you! Please, Fang! Just wake up! I love you!"

A doctor came into the room. Whipping off his doctor-like glasses, he said, "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do. He's gone."

I didn't believe him. Fang couldn't be gone. After all those near-misses—It was simply impossible. He was my right-hand man, my best friend. I… he couldn't… "You're wrong," I told the doctor boldly.

He gave a short laugh, and then his face fell to a grave expression almost instantly. "Boy, do we get that a lot," he muttered. "I'm sorry, miss. He's truly gone."

"No!" I sobbed over Fang's limp form in the hospital bed, still holding his hand like pulling on it would bring him back.

I was abruptly being shaken awake, sweat and tears pouring down my face.

"Max?" Fang asked, concern in his voice. "Max, it's just a dream. You're having a bad dream."

"A—a dream?" I sat up, glancing around my familiar room.

"Yes," Fang said calmly, pushing my hair off of my face. "Everything's okay now. Okay?"

I nodded, holding back the tears. "But—you were dead! And Lissa liked me, and my mom and Jeb were naked! And Marsha in the hot tub… and Nudge was on crack, and she met Lindsay Lohan… and Gazzy and Total… and… and I thought you were gone forever!"

"Yeah, I sort of gathered that from the screaming and crying and such." Fang relaxed in the chair next to my bed, but didn't let go of my hand.

Angel burst in the door and said, "Max, are you feeling better now? Why were you screaming?"

"I'm fine, sweetie," I said, taking the glass of water she handed me.

"You'd better be! Fang stayed here all night to make sure you were okay, but I thought you might want water. Well, I can leave now," she added with a pointed look at Fang. With that, she exited the room.

"You've been sitting here all night?" I asked, setting the now-empty glass down on the nightstand.

Fang shrugged. "I didn't know when you would wake up,"

"When did I go to bed?"

"Well… yesterday, at around noon. You fell asleep on the couch and your forehead was burning up."

"What time is it?"

"Uh… eight-thirty PM."

"What? I've been asleep that long?" I tried to recall falling asleep, but I couldn't seem to remember anything. "Was I dreaming the whole time?"

At this, Fang smirked. "Nah. The thrashing started later. And, you know, the whole 'no, Fang, I love you!' thing. That came later too."

I scowled at him. "It was a _dream," _I explained.

Fang sighed, still smirking. "First 'oh, it's the medication.' Now it's 'oh, it's the dream.' You're so full of it."

He was enjoying this _way _too much.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't be mad at him while the image of him lying dead in the hospital bed was still in my mind.

He seemed to sense my thoughts. "I'm not going to die," he said quietly. "Not any time soon, anyhow. And definitely not before you."

I raised my tired eyes to meet his. He moved to sit on the bed next to me, and in the back of my mind I wondered if he was ever going to let go of my hand. A very small part of me kind of hoped he wouldn't. He lifted his free hand to feel my forehead. "You feeling better?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at his inability to form a complete sentence but nodded. "Much."

"Well, we called Dr. Martinez yesterday. She said you should keep resting and drinking fluids. Vitamin C, you know. That stuff. Basically, you're not getting out of that bed until I say so."

I started to argue, but there was really no point when it came to Fang and my well-being. I sighed. "Fine, but I'm not going to like it," I told him.

"I can think of a few ways to make this more enjoyable," he smiled, triggering an easy blush on my face.

I saw him leaning towards me, and was fully caught up in the whole sweet moment until his lips were centimeters from mine. Then I pulled back, bringing up our intertwined hands between our lips as a reflex.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I thought it was obvious," he told me.

"No, I mean, I'm sick. If you kiss me, _you'll _get sick."

He shrugged. "Oh well. Maybe I don't care."

"So what? _You're _allowed to be a dictator when _I'm _sick and I can't be concerned about your health at all?"

"Not when I'm trying to kiss you."

I allowed for that. I wasn't one of those girls who watched soap operas and sighed over the cuteness of a guy, but even I had to admit that his comment was too cute to resist.

He leaned in again and this time I let him kiss me, the idiot. But, you know, you can't blame me. When he gets sick and starts having graphic dreams concerning sexually active members of the flock and –gulp- my death, it will be all his fault. I guess I'll have to be the one sitting by the bed, waiting to shake him awake when he starts thrashing around, screaming—well, muttering, in his case—my name. Not like it would be _horrible_, but it was still completely his fault.

_But you're so contagious_

_What am I to do?_

_When a fire and a fever rages_

_And I have caught it too_

_So who's to blame?_


End file.
